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REVENANT (Descendants Saga) Page 21
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Lux looked at Grayson as though she disapproved.
He hardly seemed to notice. “Do it, Luxana” he demanded.
Luxana was her name. I wondered at the glory of it. I had to please Luxana at any cost. Would she tell me to slide Malak-esh across my own throat, as he had suggested? If she did, I knew that I would gladly do so. As long as it pleased her. I had failed to please her before, but I wouldn’t allow that to happen this time. My arm stood ready at her command, the blade quivering in my hand.
My eyes combed her face in anticipation of the words that would end my life. How could there be anything wrong with something that would please her? I noticed a tear well upon her right lower lid and then roll down her cheek. Had I disappointed her somehow? My hypnotized mind reeled at that thought. Something, anything, had to be done to bring back her joy.
Her gaze suddenly narrowed. Resolve came over her expression. Her thought pushed into my mind. Even though I could not read someone’s thoughts, I could receive sent thoughts from those having telepathic ability as Luxana did.
Use the sword, she commanded.
My arm moved ever so slightly, tension building like a spring that required release.
Kill Grayson Stone!
My arm came down like a whip, releasing Malak-esh with a snap of my wrist. The mercurial blade completed three rotations through the air. Upon the first, Grayson looked puzzled. By the second, he was horrified. When Malak-esh completed its third rotation, the blade pierced his chest, driving completely through him.
Grayson Stone’s eyes rolled back into his head as he collapsed onto the marble dais, light emitting from the sword. His body shook momentarily, like something within him was trying to get out. With one final spasm, his body stopped moving.
My clarity of mind returned to me at that moment, and I realized Luxana had released me from her spell. I heard Sophia calling to me as she ran down from the dais, throwing her arms around my neck when she reached me. I was still so stunned by what had happened that I didn’t know how to respond. She didn’t pay any attention to my confusion, kissing me repeatedly and hugging me tightly.
“I’m so sorry, Brody,” she said between her kisses. “I don’t want to lose you. Can you forgive me? Please forgive me?”
Her speaking brought me out of my confused state. I hugged her tightly, so glad to hear those words that I couldn’t speak. I just wanted to hear her say them again and again.
The barriers that Grayson and Lucifer had put into place to wall off the room from Sophia’s guards had fallen upon his death. Where Lucifer had gone I had no idea. The guards had come in, along with Redclaw holding the spelled gun that Uriah had left him.
Donatus, Laish, Tom and Charlotte began to regain their composure. Luxana had not left the throne room. She was still hovering above the marble floor. I acknowledged her, looking over Sophia’s shoulder.
Her thoughts were still coming into my mind, only she wasn’t making any attempt to control me now. I understood why she had done it. It was my compassion for her on two occasions that had changed her mind. She had returned the favor in my moment of need.
I sent my thanks back to her in kind, offering to get her out of here before the others attempted to arrest her, which they surely would. After all, she had come to Tidus with Grayson Stone. I had no idea where her own people resided, but I did offer a portal back to central London.
She accepted with a slight nod and her own thanks. I closed my eyes, still holding tight to Sophia. The portal envelope came around her, causing her to vanish before the approaching guards. They were stunned and angry by her sudden escape, but at least Grayson Stone was dead.
Redclaw glanced at me, looking relieved, but he wasn’t going to interrupt mine and Sophia’s reconciliation. Instead, he went about trying to help Laish and Donatus. Oliver was recovering on his own and Tom was aiding Charlotte.
At the center of them all, though, was my love and me. She wasn’t going to marry another man. In fact, that evening, as Queen, she would formally choose me to be her husband. And, after a few moments of consideration, I would accept.
Epilogue
Following our ordeal within the palace throne room, those who were able had returned to the wall surrounding the city. The Lycan soldiers following Anubis had retreated to the forest, and a force was soon organized by Redclaw to follow them. After several tense hours of combat in the woods, the rebels surrendered.
Unfortunately for them, their entrance into Tidus had been a one way street. Attempting to flee, they had found themselves cut off from their leader, which none of them had seen once they passed through the portal Anubis had created in London. Oliver had stated that Kron was the host through which Anubis operated, and the Lycan rebels had confirmed his report.
The enemy soldiers had been marched back to Tidus where Redclaw had made their first order of business the matter of cleaning up the battlefield and the burying of their dead. This process continued for nearly five days, as thousands had died in the fighting and only hundreds remained to dispose of the bodies. As for their internment, they would be at the mercy of Queen Sophia and her new government.
While Redclaw had seen to military matters, as Sophia’s Master at Arms, Oliver and I had taken up our swords for the purpose of going back to London. When I removed the mercurial blade from Grayson Stone’s body, not a drop of his blood had stained its surface. Tom had given Oliver his wolf’s head cane back, having used it in Russia to kill the Romanov tsar and banish the spirit of Hageddon back to the Abyss.
Tom and Charlotte had survived the ordeal inside the throne room with minimal injuries. Eager for action, they would soon begin plans to go back to Russia. After all, Charlotte’s people were still there in that icy land. Without someone to lead them, they would run amok and another war with the vampires would result. No one wanted that, and the anarchy caused by Hageddon had to be dealt with.
Oliver and I appeared in London, having teleported directly into Whitehall. Oliver knew the place where I had been taken by Southresh and the others. He wasn’t sure why. We could only assume that they meant to kill me there. Puzzling to me was why Southresh would bother taking me to Whitehall to do the deed.
I had to admit that he had easily beaten me at Highgate outside our home there. He could have killed me there on our lawn and been done with it, but he had not. Why take me to Anubis? And why had Oliver found us all lying on the ground unconscious with evidence of an explosion?
When we arrived at the building, the answers to these questions remained unanswered. Hours had passed, and the bodies of those Oliver had seen around me were gone. Southresh indwelling Arthur Craven, Anubis indwelling Kron and the young Lycan man Oliver had reported with them were all missing, meaning they were apparently alive and well.
Lucifer had resided within Grayson Stone. And he had made the way for these Fallen to enter the mortal world, extending themselves in some way so that they existed between Tartarus and the physical plane. However, Grayson’s death and presumably Lucifer’s loss of a mortal host had not undone the work of keeping Southresh and the others here.
We had both brought our twin swords, Malak-esh, with the intent of sending these Fallen back to Tartarus. Instead we were faced with another mystery. We had to find them before they began to wreak havoc yet again.
I stared down the street, seeing London in ruins and abandoned. So much had happened. Many had died. Yet, we still had little explanation for any of it. I could only hope that the Fallen had been discouraged for awhile from their attempts to take over the world of men. If this was the case, then I thanked God. If it wasn’t the case, I still thanked him because—regardless of vampires, werewolves, trolls, elves, Superomancers, or even repentant sprites—the Almighty was the only hope any of us had.
Descendants Saga Book Four:
MILLENNIUM
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DEADLY
I sat around the fire with Carla and Charles and their surviving child, eating a piece of warm bread. We had arrived late the previous evening, but had been delayed here at the Believer’s base camp far down the mountain from my goal. However, word had been sent up to the castle, and it was expected that soon we would either be allowed to proceed or Ezekiah himself would come down to speak with us.
The news brought hope to my heart. Despite the disaster several days ago and the death of my sister priestess, I would still be able to fulfill my commission from Belial. The prophet would soon be dead. Maybe it would be even easier doing the deed down here where there were minimal soldiers around to interfere. Either way, I would soon return to stand before the High Serpent King and proclaim his greatest enemy dead.
Hours passed as the sun climbed higher in the sky. The day was clear and surprisingly warm. I had spent the last few days traveling in frigid temperatures across frozen tundra with the surviving refugees. Our flight across the metal bridge had been swift. We had wanted as far away from the ruins of the old world and the death walkers as possible. In the days following, our pace had barely slowed. Only the need to relieve ourselves and rest the horses had kept us from sprinting straight for the mountain.
There had been half a dozen guards at the base camp when we arrived. They appeared to be taking no chances. All of them wore armor to some degree or another and they were equipped with swords, crossbows and guns like I had seen used by Peka and his men in the temple attack. More than that, they seemed genuinely wary of us, like spooked animals that have seen danger recently.
Word came to us within the cave around noon. The prophet had finally arrived to welcome us to Thorn Mountain. The guards instructed us to line up at the mouth of the cave while they moved outside. It seemed a strange procedure for addressing new converts and welcoming them among the fold. At least, I thought so until I realized what was happening.
Ezekiah appeared at the mouth of the cave. The guards were arrayed all around him. I stood near the back of the line; fourteen persons altogether. The guards were on edge now, prepared to attack at the slightest provocation. I could see it in their eyes.
The prophet removed his head wrap, standing in the full light of the sun and beckoned the first man forward. Charles, the unofficial leader of our expedition, stepped forward first. Ezekiah shook the man’s hand and began to speak to him. Charles responded, still in the prophet’s grip. After a moment, Ezekiah released him and smiled as he stepped behind the guards to wait. The next person, Carla, stepped forward, and the strange process began again.
I could not hear what had been said. However, one of the elderly women behind me looked over my shoulder. “Ah,” she said, “He’s testing us.”
“What?” I asked. “Testing us how?”
The old woman looked at me, grinning. “They say the prophet knows when a person is lying to him. See how he grips their hands as he speaks to them?”
I looked again. She was right. I had not associated the gesture with anything but a simple greeting. Yet, he held them until they had given their reply.
“It’s no wonder,” the old woman said, “with all the attacks and those priestesses running around killing people for the dragons. They’ve got to be cautious. But we’ll soon be on our way up to the castle.”
Her comment was like a slap to the face. Priestesses going around killing people? She made it sound like those people were innocent; as though we were only butchers preying upon the weak. Wraith dancers were merely the arm of justice, dispensing punishment to those willing to defy the dragons and their laws. But as soon as my righteous indignation flared, the memory of John and his family surfaced.
John and his wife had simply made a mistake. But justice did not allow for mistakes, and wraith dancers had no leeway to retract judgment sent down by the Serpent Kings. I tried to bypass the memory and hold onto my anger, but I couldn’t manage it. Guilt was creeping up on me, trying to bring me down and smother my will; to keep me from fulfilling my commission today.
I mustered my zeal and pushed the memory aside. I didn’t need to reconcile this matter right now. I had to stay focused on my objective. Six people had now passed the prophet’s testing. I was tenth in line out of fourteen. My turn was rapidly approaching. I had to strike before he revealed my true nature, before the guards could react.
I looked at the man as he grabbed the hand of another man, number seven, and asked his question. I was struck for a moment by how handsome the prophet was. Sandy hair and blue eyes. He hadn’t shaved in a day, leaving a layer of dark stubble caressing his face. The prophet was not an overly large man, but appeared to be strong; yet I could see a compelling kindness in his eyes.
Number seven passed beyond the guards as number eight moved up to meet him; a younger woman who seemed eager to touch the man. She was shaking, and not just from the cool air. I suddenly realized that my turn was almost upon me. I closed my eyes. Now was the time. When the woman in front of me moved forward I would have to strike. The guards and Ezekiah would be focused upon her rather than me in that moment.
I reached out for the Gifts of Transcendence, delving as deeply into their power as I had ever gone. Nothing. I reached out again…panic beginning to well up within me. Still, there was nothing. I had never experienced such a thing. I could not access the gifts. It felt like they had never even existed.
My eyes darted in every direction. What was I going to do? I could not use my special abilities, but I still had to strike the prophet down. I began to tremble in anticipation of the moment. But there was nothing to be done. I had to complete my mission regardless of this catastrophe.
My eyes locked with a boy standing near the prophet among the guards. He was looking at me curiously; his eyes scrutinizing me. Did he know? How could he? I was merely being paranoid.
The eighth person blushed and released Ezekiah’s hand. She had been holding on past the time he had let her go. She moved beyond the guards while still looking back at the man. The woman in front of me began to walk toward the prophet, leaving me exposed behind her.
I started to move forward, but then hesitated at the last moment. Doubt was trying to overcome me. I suddenly felt like screaming, or crying—I didn’t really know which. I knew everyone around me had figured me out by now. I was an imposter, a fraud among them; an assassin sent to destroy a man they admired, that some probably even loved.
All too quickly, the woman in front of me had answered the prophet’s question. I had heard what he had asked that time. “Have you renounced your faith in the dragon gods and trusted in Elithias to save your soul?” The woman had answered easily, offering him an emphatic, “yes.”
Clearly he had seen no reason to doubt her statement. But the question would now come to me. I would be expected take the prophet’s strong hand. If his power was true, then my lying heart would be revealed to him. Was his god real? Had I believed wrongly all this time? How could he possibly know the secrets of my heart unless his god told him my thoughts?
I started forward, acutely aware of many eyes now resting upon me. They were all expecting another young woman of faith. Someone who would answer as easily as the others had. I noticed that a few of the guards weren’t even looking at me. They had already looked into the cave to those still waiting, trying to pick out a traitor by appearance alone. How wrong they were.
I watched my feet take those first few steps, and then forced my eyes to meet his. Ezekiah was smiling at me
. He seemed so unthreatened by my appearance, so eager to welcome me among his followers. Part of me wanted to shake his hand, to bear my heart and soul, to have my questions raised and see if this so-called prophet had the answers I desired.
But I was still a wraith dancer. I had been sent by Belial the Glorious to administer justice to this infidel. I was a weapon in the hand of the High Serpent King; the most powerful of the dragon gods. Who was this man to defy him? Who was this Elithias he preached? Why did I have anything to fear from him?
My hand passed over the place where my best dagger was hidden. I came away with it ready to strike. Four feet from the outstretched hand, my arm cocked for the killing blow. I strode forward confidently; regardless of the absence of the Gifts of Transcendence. I even met his eyes and his smile with one of my own. One more step forward and this trusting fool would die by my hand.
I heard the explosion almost at the same time that I felt something strike me hard in the breast. My body, purposed though I was to continue forward, was thrown violently backward away from the prophet. I caught the bewildered expression, the surprise in his eyes as I was thrown away from him by something I still did not comprehend.
I realized that I was falling. The boy passed before my eyes. The gun in his hand was pointed in my direction, the barrel of the weapon still smoking. He had a determined but shocked expression. Now, I could only see the ground and the feet of the guards moving toward me.
I felt heaviness in my chest. I wasn’t breathing, though I wanted to take a breath very badly. A dull ache was spreading over my entire body as all of my strength ebbed away. I managed to turn onto my back, though I could no longer feel the ground beneath me. Numbness crept over the dull ache, replacing it as it spread throughout my limbs and torso. I saw the sky. The sun was beginning to fade in my vision as though a dark cloth had been drawn over my face.